Watcher
by Aravyth
Summary: When you lose nearly everything, what lengths will you go to protect what you have left?
1. Chapter 1

Watcher

It smelled of sea, rum, blood, and sweat and the boards creaked with each step. The sound of the sea was heard clearly even in the dank wooden building, waves crashing on the rocks below and seagulls swooping about. He sat on the second story of Booty Bay's tavern with a wary looking goblin across from him. He didn't blame her, not considering what he was and with the war heating up between the Alliance and the Horde. Silently he dropped a leather pouch on the small table between them. The coins inside jingled and clinked catching the woman's attention, but not lowering her guard.

He spoke with a deep rumble and a strange hollowness. "200 gold up front. Another 200 each week you send me a report, a detailed one mind you. All you have to do is keep her safe, preferably happy if that's even possible for… for a forsaken. Interested?"

Grey eyes looked at him with suspicion and the ever present wariness. Her voice was a contrast to his, higher pitched and bubbly. "Interested, sure. I'm gonna need more details 'fore I accept of course and an answer as to why ya asked for me specifically."

Nazli grinned at her, showing a muzzle full of mostly white fangs. "Because I hear you're trustworthy. No history of backstabbing, cheating, stealing, and so on. Also, as a goblin you're less, ah, invested in the Horde and it's," The worgen paused to sneer nastily. "Warchief."

Kinktoxi relaxed at his answer and even allowed a grin to spread across her face. "All right, ya got yaself the right gal then. So what's her name? Basic features? Any extra duties?"

The death knight pushed the pouch of gold to her side of the table as he spoke. Without turning her attention away from him she slid it to somewhere below sight, presumably into one of her many pockets. "Her true name is Amara Charring, my sister, but with her memory loss she now goes by Aravyth. You may tell her our last name as well as her age, 33. She's," his jaw locks for a moment before he grounds out the rest. "Forsaken, she's undead. Long dark brown hair, she wears a leather strap around her face, and has a… rotting dent of sorts on her forehead."

He paused and looked at Kinktoxi for a moment. "She also has a pet spider larger than you."

The priestess looked disgruntled, but nodded, committing the information to memory. She tilted her head then and threw out another question. "Say, if ya know all this stuff why do ya need me?"

Nazli leaned back against his chair which creaked dangerously and casually looked around the tavern. The only other souls there were a pair of humans on the first floor and the goblin bartender. It was a rather quiet afternoon. "Easy to get bits here and there. A little gold for a little time, but none of them fit for what I really wanted. What I want you to do." His face turned grim then. "You won't find it much trouble. That dent, the head injury keeps her docile from what I can tell. Consider finding out more about it as part of the deal, shouldn't be too hard for a priestess like yourself. Heal it even if it's possible."

Kinktoxi pursed her lips for a moment and stood up. "Well, no time like the present. I'll go find your sister and get her set up somewhere cozy or whatever. She better have a damn good hold on that spider though, I'd rather not be bitten. My luck it'd have one hell of a tough to cleanse poison."

He chuckled at her, but nodded his appreciation. "Knew I chose the right goblin. My thanks, she's the only person, only thing I care about anymore. Take care."

The goblin woman turned away, trying not to show how much she wanted to swoon over such familial love. "Yea, yea. Don't ya worry, long as the gold keeps flowing she'll be fine and dandy." With a poorly concealed sniffle she walked away, down the stairs and out into the bright day light.

With his lively companion gone, Nazli sunk further into his chair and his expression smoothed out to being nearly blank. He stared sightlessly at a stained wall and a single claw tapped on the table as he lost himself in his thoughts. Everything from his life was gone, all he had left was her. Her and his skill with jewelry. The gold he made from his skill by far covered the 200 gold he'd send weekly to Kinktoxi, not to mention the other 200 he was sending directly to his sister. The rest that he made went into the bank, there was little he needed gold for. Armor repairs here, weapon replacements there. He didn't need food, his mount didn't need food, and neither of them need sleep either.

The worgen grunted as he stood up. He had more commissions to complete and there was always another order to take, but his patrons would find him easier in the human capital than in the bay. The two humans paused their hushed conversation as Nazli walked by their table to head outside and didn't continue until he was well past the door. He ignored them with practiced ease as did the until now unnoticed pug following his steps.

Well, perhaps there was one other soul he cared for. The pug was scooped up into his arms and cradled with care as he mounted a ruby panther. "Try not to puke on me this time Percy. And remind me to give that goblin a bonus too if she can actually do something for Ara's injury."

* * *

These will be a series of shorts involving Nazli, Kinktoxi, and/or Aravyth. All ready have a general idea for the next one. If you read my other story - I do have a chapter for Fujin, but it's on a GHI book that I need to see if someone else managed to keep. Lost my copy with the last patch and Lord knows I'll never be able to rewrite it.


	2. Chapter 2

Just a quick note: Kinktoxi's full name irritates me somewhat so I'll be referring to her by her nickname more often than not. One of those weird 'I dislike it, but like it' situations. Oh, and don't expect I'll update this quickly ever again. Heh, I know myself well enough that this is extremely rare for me.

* * *

First Meeting

Kinktoxi stood at the bottom steps of the Tirisfal Glades zeppelin tower, staring out at the gloomy drizzle as she pulled up her dark grey hood. She snorted to herself then; as if it was ever not gloomy here. The goblin chewed on her lower lip while debating where to look first for the forsaken hunter. Having no desire to enter the capital of the dead she chose to look through Brill first and hoped Aravyth would be there.

The priestess walked along the path down the hill on which the towers where situated on and took the path leading to her left the moment it appeared. She wrapped her cloak tighter around herself, starting to feel the chill that permeated the area, and grumbled at herself for not bringing her chopper after half an hour passed and was still far from her destination. When she finally entered the grave town she was soaked to the bone and scowling frightfully.

Adopting a slower pace now she headed towards the inn as she slid her gaze from one huddle of undead to the next. Not one bothered to look outside of their group and so far there wasn't a Deathguard in sight. There was, however, a Dark Ranger leaning against one building, but if Kink was honest with herself they terrified her. They would be a last resort. Entering one of the few open buildings Kink found herself inside the inn. It wasn't the least bit warmer, but as she stomped water out of her boots she thought that at least it was mostly dry.

Gazing around the dreary inn she took in it's inhabitants and lowered her hood. A few forsaken here and there, none the one she hunted, and a blood elf couple in one corner. Still no Deathguards. Sighing and still shaking the rain water off she walked over to the elves. They looked up when she came close, suspicion and reluctant tolerance coloring their features. The shorter of the two males spoke up with a clear strong voice. "And to what do we owe the pleasure of your presence, goblin?"

Barely resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Kink spoke to them frankly without wasting time on, in her opinion, useless pleasantries. "Just lookin' for someone. Ya can spare the time for that, right? Right, great. So tell me, either of you seen an undead hunter around? Female, long dark hair, great bloody spider at her side? No? Damn. Fine, how about a Deathguard?"

Frustrated and vastly irritated at being cut off and talked over, the blood elf bit out a vague answer before promptly turning his back to the much shorter woman. Satisfied at the answer, but even more so at successfully getting on his nerves, she fired back with an obviously ungrateful thanks. Grinning now, Kink swaggered out the inn and turned right to head the same direction she was going previously. Keen eyes scanned the streets for a walking corpse dressed in the appropriate uniform as she leisurely strolled down the dark street. The goblin began to hum to herself as she passed two undead discussing some poison or another, apothecaries likely. Maybe rogues.

With an uncaring shrug she turned down an small alley leading to a parallel street where to her luck a Deathguard happened to be standing. Moving faster, but not running the priestess went up to her and planted herself in full sight. Grinning widely enough to show sparkling white teeth Kink spoke. "Hey, hey! Miss Deathguard ma'am, help a gob out. Need me an undead hunter, business reasons ya understand. Seen one?"

The Deathguard curled her lips in distaste, but answered all the same. "Seen a couple. Don't waste my time, name and description."

Nodding, Kink shot out the description Nazli gave her as well as the hunter's first name. Still wearing an unpleasant expression the guard ground out her reply. "Yea, the slow one. She's at the stables likely." Seeing the goblin opening her mouth and guessing the next question the Deathguard cut her off. "Go right, take the first road left. Now off with you, I'm not a tour guide."

Slightly miffed and ignoring the irony, Kinktoxi pursed her lips as she left in the given direction without another word. It was a longer walk to the stables than it was to the inn; she hadn't realize just how large Brill had become, it wasn't hinted at in what little she heard in Orgrimmar and Thunderbluff. Then again, as segregated as the Horde was that wasn't so surprising. When she came close enough to the stables Kink stood for a moment to scan them inside and out. While mostly filled with skeletal horses it was dotted with some more exotic mounts as well as a few hawkstriders. There was even a Lovebird of all things. Moving about them with food, hay, and other supplies were a few forsaken clothed simply and heading towards the only stabled raptor was a troll dressed in a heavy cloth robe.

For a minute Kink was filled with disappointment and exasperation, not seeing Aravyth or any sign of her. Just as she was about to stomp up to one of the stable hands though she caught sight of the hunter slowly, but surely making her way to the stable with a spider that was even larger than Nazli had described. Staring at the spider, the goblin became rooted on the spot for a long painful moment. Gritting her teeth and cursing the worgen in her head, Kink forced herself to walk up to the woman while staying as far away from the spider as she could. Seeming to pick up on her nerves, Aravyth stepped between the goblin and spider before speaking with a slow deliberate voice and a light slur. "It's okay. She won't hurt anyone unless I say to or unless they try to hurt me."

Nonetheless, Kink kept her distance even if she did relax slightly at the words of assurance. Remaining silent for the time being, she looked the undead up and down getting as good a feel for the other woman as she could. Undead were always a bit tricky with that though, so Kink couldn't really be sure of anything. All the while Aravyth studied the goblin in return, wondering what she could want with someone who was fairly known by now as being 'slow' in the head. The hunter shoved away the spike of bitterness that thought produced and stood attentive when the priestess finally decided to talk. "Uh, yea I'll try to remember that. Anyway, the name's Kinktoxi Silverwell and I got some business with ya. See, ya got someone lookin' out for ya and they hired me to do the personal stuff. Good choice if I say so myself! But first, ya got a house or somethin' that at least keeps this damn rain off me?"

Taken back, Aravyth stared at the goblin for a long moment while trying to formulate her response. As always it was a struggle to pull up memories and put thoughts together. "No, don't have a house. Stay at the inn, at inns. Someone knows me? Like, knows me knows me?"

While Kink pouted at having to go back to the inn, the forsaken woman scowled internally at her awkwardness with words. How she loathed it and the reactions it typically garnered. The goblin though seemed oblivious to it or at least polite enough to ignore it. Silently the two trudged back, using the same path Kink took to get to the stables and she remained a healthy distance away from the spider the whole way. Reluctantly Aravyth coaxed her companion, dubbed Anansi, to stay outside near the wall. More at ease now Kink perked up and nearly dragged the rotted woman to a free corner with a small rickety table. Getting right to it the goblin chattered away while Aravyth listened carefully. "Okay, so here's the dealio. Someone from your life before death is still around and cares about ya, but for reasons can't do nothin' other than hire me to watch out for ya. I don't ask the whys, but I was told to tell ya two things and nothin' else. Your last name is Charring and you're 33 years old."

Here Kink paused to let the undead absorb the information and consider it. She continued to watch the other woman's face, starting to get the idea that the woman wasn't slow in the intelligence side of things so much as just slow time-wise. Aravyth was gripping the edge of her chair tightly, confused on how to handle what she was told and fighting the emptiness that constantly tried to strangle her. Someone cared about her, someone actually and truly cared. Oh, the apothecaries 'cared', but only as long as she brought them herbs and animal parts to experiment with. Licking her lips out of habit, Aravyth shakily replied. "He cares… you're really here to, to watch out for me?"

Suddenly her face twisted into something more bitter and harsh and her slurring became more pronounced. "If this is some sick joke, don't you think I'm too stupid to make you pay for it."

Kink controlled her instinct to flinch at the down right scary reaction and quickly assured the abused woman. "No joke, hun! Honest, I ain't that kinda gal. I can't speak for him, but I'm guessin' he don't want ya clingin' to your old life so that's why he didn't want ya to know more. I will care for ya too, don't doubt that. I'm a woman of my word. Come on, let's start hashin' out what ya want. Where to live and all that, yea?"

The undead woman calmed down, but remained somewhat sullen and suspicious as she took in the priestess' words. It was hard to trust her, goblins were mostly the ones who liked to try to take advantage of her. It took an exceedingly long time to sort herself out as well as properly arrange a response, but through it all Kinktoxi waited patiently which earned her some bonus points. "I'll believe you, for now. I'm, I guess you could say happy, living here in Brill. No orcs lookin' at all us funny, no one bothers me much here, and it isn't too crowded and noisy."

Kink nodded with a thoughtful look on her face, mentally noting the answer, and gave the hunter a few more questions to go over. "Fair enough. Okay, is there any house here ya like? Actually, is there any available even? No fan of the weather here, but I'll be damned if I don't do a proper job of watchin' over ya. What do ya spend your time doin' most days, like to make gold or hobbies or whatev'."

Surprise flitted across Aravyth's face and she frowned in concentration. A house was something she considered on the rare occasional, particularly after someone anonymous staring sending her a, in her mind, large amount of gold the start of each week. She started then, realizing that someone must be the same one that sent the goblin here. The undead flicked a look in her direction before returning to staring slightly above and to her right. As for the other question… there wasn't much to say. "There's a couple, not many deaders care to own places. I, I like the one near the stables on the edge of town. Not big, not too close to the hustle of the stables."

A pleased smile grew on the goblin's face, but she remained silent while Aravyth gathered her thoughts on the second question and shared them. "Right now, I just harvest and gather ingredients for apothecaries. Just something to do and to get some gold for equipment and inn fees. Keeps me busy I suppose."

With a sharp nod Kink stood up and grinned. "That's that for now. We can discuss more later, yea? Let's get that house and get ya settled in. I'll hafta leave ya then for a while to get my own crap outta the Org slums, but I'll be back 'fore ya know it."

The hunter blinked at her and slowly stood as well. Her unlife was starting to get interesting; she wasn't sure what to think of it yet, but she wasn't going to put a stop on it. Aravyth gathered her few possessions left in the room she regularly rented and dutifully followed the perky goblin to the current holder of the desired house. Kinktoxi kept her cheerful demeanor all the while and decided it would be best to save the discussion of the glaringly obvious head injuring for a time when the woman was able to trust her enough. She felt she made good progress though all ready.


	3. Chapter 3

Distractions

Shouts, explosions, and the clanging of metal rang through the warm air. Sand flew up in spurts and waves and blood of various colors stained the beach. A male worgen, dark in both fur and armor, snarled at yet another orc and buried his right axe into his shoulder. The orc gave his own snarl even as the arm connected to that shoulder went limp and dark red blood gushed out. Nazli blocked a clumsy swing with his other axe, yet another clanging added to the sound of battle, and pulled the orc forward with the one still lodged in his shoulder. A flash of fangs and the orc was dead. Nazli stood above the fresh corpse, licking his bloodied muzzle and surveying the rest of the beach he was on.

The elf warrior that battled along side him gave the worgen a look mixed with disgust and admiration before moving over to check the corpse. Nazli didn't know why the elf, Mech if he remembered correctly, looted each one, but he had only known the other male for a few hours. The death knight gave a mental shrug and watched as the Horde prepared to surge forward again. If Nazli was honest, it bothered him how it seemed the bulk of the army was orcs. It made him worried about what was going on in the Horde, and more importantly, how it might effect his sister.

The white haired Mech stood back up a few gold richer with a frown on his face and almost absently checked his armor just before the tide of enemies began again. Thoughts interrupted, the worgen howled along with the night elf's powerful shout and threw himself back into battle. An orc warlock managed to hit him with a curse of weakness before the twin axes cost her a head and through the sudden fatigue he pushed himself towards a goblin shaman. Mech's own claw like fist weapons tore through the goblin first though and earned a shock from the shaman's lightning shield. On they fought until the waves of enemies turned back in retreat, by which time Nazli's rune axes were singing.

The worgen was licking at his muzzle again, a pleased expression on his face and the night elf approached him with his own pleased grin. Mech gestured at the death knight to hold out a hand. Once done, the warrior slapped a blood soaked parchment onto it and his look became smug. Baffled, Nazli looked down at it and tried in vain to read it. There was too much blood though and instead of wasting more time holding it up to the sun he simply turned his stare on to the elf. Mech seemed slightly put out, but spoke up. "It's an invitation. To the _Brawler's Guild_."

The worgen remained confused; he never heard of such a group and so he gruffly asked for a better explanation. Mech shook his head and the small robot that practically followed him like a puppy wailed it's displeasure. While the white haired warrior spoke, the two of them trudged back to where their mounts were stabled far behind the defensive lines. "I shouldn't be surprised you haven't heard of it since it's supposed to be kept on the down low, but at the same time it's still talked of a lot. It's a good place to push yourself to your limits in battle, and beyond. Most of it's one on one against other members, but occasionally there's special fights."

They paused briefly by a healer's tent when a priest demanded to look them over and the two males suffered in silence as they were poked and prodded. Finally realizing their injuries were minor, the priest let them go and Mech picked back up where he left off. "Anyway, the special fights only happen to decide your rank in the Guild and the higher your rank the harder your opponent. Ranks are mostly bragging rights, but there's a few things you can buy with the right rank."

The warrior was close to strutting when he boasted of his own rank eight to Nazli's amusement. Still, the worgen thought, it was fairly impressive and the guild had an appeal to it. When he was stuck in the capitol to do business it could get boring, especially at night when most went to sleep. Before they parted on their mounts, Nazli on his ruby panther and Mech on the sapphire version, the night elf gave him directions to the guild and mentioned he'd be there regularly when he was in the city.

For the next two weeks they continued to battle together on the beaches of the Krasarang Wilds with the occasional acquaintance or friend - usually Mech's - joining them. Nazli continued to get reports from the goblin he was paying to look after his forsaken sister all the while and they even found their way to him when he spent another two weeks traveling to gather metals and gems for his time in Stormwind.

It was his second night back that he found himself palming the invitation, still soaked with blood and slowly growing crusty. Nazli had been finished with his only order so far for several hours now and boredom consumed him. So he put his plate armor on, grabbed his twin axes, and left his tiny house by the canal in Old Town. It was a quiet walk to the tram; most were asleep and the ones awake made as little noise as possible. There had been a string of murders recently which made the silence anxious and fearful instead of it's typical weariness and tentative peace. It didn't affect the worgen though, not with his appearance marking him as far from an easy - worthwhile - target. Of course, it helped that the victims so far were all petite female night elves.

Nazli nodded briefly to a rather banged up, but chipper dwarf in leather who was leaving the entrance under the tram. As he walked down the tunnel the noise level gradually increased. He could hear shouts of course and the usual sounds of battle; along with those sounds was the clinking of glass, the dull roar of many conversations, the shattering of mugs, and bellows of laughter, cheers, and taunts. If his blood still flowed, it would surely be pumping hotly in response. Nazli carefully navigated around the packed room passed a large bar and spectators until he reached a goblin in front of an open door. She held a clipboard with a pen and he spotted a few invitations peeking out of a large pocket, also soaked with blood to his amusement.

She sharply asked him if he was signing up for a fight or turning in an invite and without a word he presented his. As the goblin checked it's authenticity a heavy hand landed on his shoulder. Nazli turned swiftly and upon seeing a certain white haired elf he bit back his originally scathing remark. Instead he offered a grumpy greeting which seemed to only increase Mech's smile. In between answering the goblin's many and seemingly pointless questions_(Do you have allergies? Are you religious and if so what is your religion?)_ the two of them chatted.

The worgen planned to dive right into his first rank match and the warrior was signing up to go two versus two with his newest combat partner. Said partner was a female druid, also a night elf, with talent in combat healing and was occupied with watching the current arena match. Nearly half an hour later Nazli was finally directed through the door and told to wait for his name to be announced. Another tunnel sloped down into a room lined with simple wood benches and chairs. In it fighters of all races and skills mingled or stood alone in their own little pockets of space. It was peaceful compared to the main room.

The death knight moved to a spot away from both doors and entertained himself with examining everyone during the wait. He expected to see only seasoned veterans yet he saw a fair many who were obviously green. Newbies, as he overhead some of the others mutter. Mech and the druid eventually came to stand beside him and discussed strategies in low murmurs. The worgen grinned to himself when he noticed the lack of effort from the female elf compared to Mech's enthusiasm; if he had to describe her reaction to Mech it was a subtle and affectionate tolerance. Nazli occasionally added his own input into disabling and taking out death knights and worgen. He wasn't concerned about going up against them as he had no plans to do anything other than one on one and ranked matches. A fight between just him and Mech would be a sight to see though; both familiar with the other and experience in battle.

Mech and his partner were called first as apparently Nazli's opponent wasn't ready just yet. He wished the two luck as the warrior eagerly dragged the other night elf through the door leading to the arena. A dwarf shaman and gnome rogue followed at a slower pace. The worgen wished he could watch, duels between opponents of such differing size was always fascinating if not entertaining to witness. It was awhile before they returned exhausted, but victorious after a close match. It was Nazli's turn now and he made his way into the arena with confidence.

High walls on three sides lead up to railing with all manners of spectators leaning over it and the fourth wall featured two doors and the goblin responsible for the Brawler's Guild. The second door was huge, not much shorter than the three walls and just as wide. Nazli eyed it warily as he stood at the opposite end and readied his axes. The door slowly opened and the head of the Guild announced his opponent's name as it stepped out of the door's shadows. The worgen stared in disbelief as a giant giraffe gazed back at him with it's giant dark soulless eyes. In his shick he barely bolted out of the way as it tried to trample him and snorted in an unnatural rage. Nazli pushed back his surprise and danced around the surprising agile creature. It wasn't terribly hard to defeat though since breaking a single leg took it down, but the surprise at the start could cost many their victory.

After being awarded his new rank the death knight sought out Mech and joined him at a table against the wall. The night elf had a spectacular grin on his face when he confirmed Nazli's suspicion; all rank one fights featured a disproportionately large animal that many newcomers and inexperienced fighters lost to. The druid gazed at Nazli curiously and, after knocking back a shot of something with a heady fragrance, she asked if he would return again. When he took more than a moment to think it over Mech shot him a look that was a strange mix of pleading and threatening. It made the worgen laugh outright, the grating hollowness making both elves flatten their ears against their skulls.

Nazli leaned lazily against his chair and replied with a tone layered with faux apathy. "Yea, I suppose I will. My axes always thirst for blood after all. Though, I'd rather not face another mutated giraffe with a gaze creepier than my own."


End file.
